Threads of Fate
by PurpleHippo61
Summary: A legend scripted before its beginning. A story finished before it's begun. The tale of Perseus, a life spun by the threads of fate and time. First fic
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Percy Jackson-dat shit ain't mine

Threads of Fate

A storm crackled above the looming obsidian towers, tongues of lighting lancing down onto the barren ground below.

 _This was his home._

A hostile wind echoed through the branching hallways, whispering its sinister desires to those willing to listen, spilling secrets that would never be spoken again.

 _This was his family._

Ancient columns towered towards the ceiling shrouded in shadows, depicting past glory of a forgotten era, a golden age that was now coming to an end.

 _And he would fight for it, whether or not the cost would be his final breath._

Kronos, Titan of Time, stood imperiously, with his golden scythe sitting at his waist, breathing in the silence of his greatest stronghold. Mount Orthys stood majestically against the blackened skyline, an impenetrable fortress brimming with power.

Yet Kronos could see the truth, even if his foolish kin were blind to it. Mount Orthys was crumbling, new cracks appeared almost at will-slowly, surely, it was crashing down around them. A reflection of his dying empire, the great Titan Dynasty.

His rebellious offspring were growing in power, his armies' victories becoming scarcer and scarcer. Yes, Kronos could see the truth-change had once again reared its head, eager to devour and destroy.

"But that's not what you want, is it?"

Kronos' head snapped up, searching for the location of the speaker.

"You don't want to die-but then who does?"

His hand reached for his scythe, prepared to defend himself. The hostile wind had stopped, all was silent.

"Show yourself!"

A glimpse of movement in the shadows-a body detached itself from the darkness, stepping into light cast by Greek fire.

Kronos relaxed, yet still kept his hand on his weapon.

"Phoebe", Kronos spoke levelly, yet the danger in his voice was easily detectable.

The titan in mention scoffed.

" _Master_ ", Phoebe hissed, with sarcasm oozing from the word. "You wish to be powerful once more, no? Your enemies to cower and tremble at your feet again."

Kronos' sudden interest was barely concealed, and the titan of prophesy cackled with excitement.

"And why would that be your concern, sister?"

Phoebe laughed with glee as lightning flashed across the sky above, for she knew she had already secured her victory. Her brother's greed and lust for power had led him blindly into fates web.

"I am the Titan of prophesy, Brother. I know all. I see all. I have witnessed what has been, what is and what will. Zeus and his siblings shall raise their own army: half-godlings, mortals wielding incredible power. I have foreseen, these mortals shall be your downfall."

Kronos remained silent, contemplating her words-an army of such power would speed up the wheels of change tenfold-the Titanomachy another sliver of forgotten history, left to erode in the ever shifting passages of time.

"Sister, what would you have me do? How can we secure our future?"

The titan turned sombre, her exuberant grin replaced with a stern expression.

"Perhaps…a champion of your own, Master. One who will spread fear with every swing of his sword, pull Olympus down brick by brick at your side. The child of a Titan. Yet the child of a mortal."

The Titan lord paced up the hallway, each step a resounding boom, then spun around and paced back, a puzzled yet scandalized expression across his face.

"You would have me defile our blood?"

Phoebe's face took on a firm, superior look.

"I would have you secure our lineage", the words spat out with venom.

A flash of fire, as the titan disappeared from the brooding Kronos' sight.

The storm continued to rage across the heavens, shrieking for blood to be spilled and brothers to cross steel with one another.

"Iapetus, find me the nearest mortal village."

-Line break-

Three sisters sat together, spinning in unison the threads of the universe. Three sisters sat together in silence, eager for the greatest spectacle in history to begin.

For this was a legend that had been set in stone since time was an infant. A fate that had been weaved millennia ago, waiting patiently to unfold.

This was the story of Perseus. A story that would span the ages.


	2. Chapter 1

_A soft breeze drifted across the sun kissed sand, blowing across the young boy's knees, creating euphoric laughter. The green sea lapped against his shins, the steady rhythm calming him and giving him a sense of tranquillity in his hyperactive mind._

 _Soft hands grabbed him around the waist, lifting him high as giggles erupted from the young boy. The young mother's eyes were brimming with mirth and adoration for her child, for this was her greatest pride. Her child was her only escape from the brutal and harsh life of a citizen of Greece._

 _The young child looked across the surf, out to the majestic ocean. A lone figure was approaching them, as if he had climbed straight from the depths of the sea-_

Perseus opened his eyes to find himself on his rough, animal hide bed, the remnant of a forgotten memory that he saw in his dream quickly fading from his mind. Staring straight at the ceiling, Perseus explored the carvings above his bed, attempting to discern what they could tell. Knowledge that had been passed down for eternities, untold for millennia.

Impossible.

Next to his bed, a lantern containing Greek fire cast shadows on to the walls, creating monstrous forms that prowled across his room in search of blood. The dark walls of his room contained no personal items, nor did it contain any mementos. Only his sword, his armour and a worn out book about the city states of Greece. It was more a prison than a home.

Prometheus had been the one to teach him to read and write-it was a nice break from the sweat and blood that came with his daily routine of training with the brutal and ruthless Pallas. Not that he could read very well. Prometheus frequently ridiculed him as he read, incorrect phrases spilling from his lips. Perseus didn't mind though-it was always good-natured.

Perseus had now witnessed thirteen summers, seven of them occurring in the confines of Mount Orthys. His memories of his home town were scarce and insignificant-a few features of a face, the creek that ran past his hut and down into the sea. It pained him to realise how little he truly remembered.

The young demi-titan climbed out of his bed, taking short strides over to his equipment. Hoisting his armour over his head, he secured it in place with the practice of a seasoned veteran. It was similar to the rest of the titan forces' armour, a bronze breastplate with greaves to protect his legs, with little protection on his arms. His father had not yet deemed him worthy enough for his own, original armour set. He fixed the xiphos, the traditional Greek sword, onto his hip, sliding it into its sheath as a metallic zing echoed around him. Although spears were significantly more popular for most warriors, Perseus had found swordsmanship to be second nature-many titans had spoken of his immense potential when wielding his weapon of choice. However, he had not yet found one with the correct balance that suited his fighting style, his current sword only having the best results so far, but seemed to always lean to the left when used.

Perseus hurried along the cold corridors of Mount Orthys, realising he was late for his morning session with Pallas. He could already feel the beating he would receive in their spar. As he charged past, low ranking soldiers bowed their heads to him, respecting the young prodigy. Perseus supposed that's what you get when your father is an all-powerful dictator who rules the entire known world.

Sprinting up the stairs, the young demi-titan exploded into the training room used by Pallas to train Perseus, not noticing the foot that lay across the doorway in anticipation of his arrival. As he made connection, he was sent sprawling across the hard floor, his armour pulling him down like a rock. Coming to a gangly stop, Perseus lay on the floor with his limbs spread out around him.

"Poor performance, Perseus. Forgotten your first lesson already?"

The disgraced youngster pushed himself up from the floor in an undignified fashion, his mentor gloating at the simplicity of manoeuvring his student into a killing position.

"Never rush into a battle. Always check your surroundings. Then check them again. You never know what you might have missed until your throat's been slit."

Pallas hauled his apprentice up, forcing him to stand straight. A smirk had crossed his face.

"The mighty son of Kronos, felled by a single foot. Now, training. Since you were late, we will have to work twice as hard!" the titan roared, pushing Perseus, who was still in his grip, backwards. He once again found himself thrown to the floor, sprawled in front of Pallas.

Perseus attempted to let out a roar of frustration, but what came out sounded more like a whimper as he was left battered on the floor. As his mentor guffawed, the son of Kronos decided it was just one of those days.

-Line break-

Perseus entered the throne room battered and broken. Pallas hadn't held back-he never did-and now he was feeling it. Stumbling forward he pulled himself towards his father's throne, as Pallas had told him Kronos had requested his presence.

Twelve thrones sat in a semi-circle shape, each one as imposing as the other. The one that was occupied, his father's, stood tall and proud, capable of seating a creature of enormous power. It was midnight black, at 20 foot tall, yet the majority of it was the back of the chair, which arched towards the ceiling, casting shadows across the floor, giving the appearance of nightmare beasts resting at his feet.

Perseus kneeled before his father, casting his eyes to the ground before him. He refused to meet his father's eyes, apprehensive of what he might find in them-most likely an emotionless swirl of darkness.

"Rise, Perseus."

The demi-titan rose to his feet, fighting against the binds of fatigue, straightening before his father, a military general standing before his lord.

"Your treacherous half-siblings have raised an army in the West, butchering their way here to claim my throne as their own. My son, I have presented this chance to you to prove yourself in battle-wipe these warmongers out, and return to take your place by my side."

The Titan's son looked to his father, shivering with anticipation at the chance to prove his worth. His hand itched towards his blade, eager to unleash his power against those who stood against him.

"Of course, Master. I shall not fail."

With his words, the atmosphere thickened as Kronos leaned forward to peer into his son, as if he was evaluating whether or not to split his skull where he stood. The silence lasted an eternity, as the opposing members stood silently. Eventually, a slight smile adorned the Titan Lord's face as he leaned back into his chair, becoming relaxed once more.

"When have you ever before?" Kronos spoke levelly with a hint of mirth.

With a flick of his hand, Kronos relinquished his son from his presence. Perseus spun around, striding out of the throne room whilst preparing himself for the upcoming battle. As he walked past the entrance, he glimpsed Theodoras, one of his Father's generals, standing outside with two guards either side. The sweat beading down his forehead could be clearly seen, his hands fidgeting at his neck. Rumour was that his entire battalion had been wiped out by a single man sent by the gods. Perseus knew it was most likely an exaggeration, but he knew the man had still failed-he had been brought before Kronos for his punishment

It was only when the demi-titan strode out of the gates and began his trek down the side of Mount Orthys that the screams began to fade.

-Line break-

An army with the banner of a scythe stood upon the ridge of a hill, which gently sloped down into a grassy field. On the other side of the field, the grass sloped up once more to create a valley. The grass was blowing in the wind as Helios reached his peak, whilst a small number of cows grazed in the corner, oblivious to the impending blood bath. Two soldiers stood in the shade of an olive tree, finding a little respite from the ruthless sun.

A single eagle flew over the heads of the army, letting out an ear piercing shriek before flying off towards the field to catch a mouse. As it flew down, a group of cows were startled, causing them to stampede over the eagle, crushing it.

"An omen, cousin. When Zeus swoops to attack, Kronos shall destroy the traitors."

Perseus looked to his right to where the voice came from. Kaenas, son of Iapetus, stood next to him watching expectantly at the field. He wore the same armour as Perseus, instead wielding a spear fizzing with electricity-for an added kick-that he flicked in his hand in anticipation and excitement. However on the surface he remained calm and collected. His smooth brown hair blew softly in the wind, but the scar that stretched from his right ear down to his chin removed any doubt that he was not battle hardened.

The two boys had formed a close bond in their time together, as they were the only half titans known, causing them to share a similar link. The titan council had decided to test them together, placing them in charge of an army consisting of mortals.

"Aye, glory is promised to us today, Kaenas."

The Olympian army had still not been sighted. Scouts had reported that it was a similar size to the Titan army, consisting of about 200 men. The thunder of footsteps could be heard across the valley, signifying the approach of the army.

Kaenas shouted along the line, ordering the soldiers to prepare themselves. Hoplites were positioned in the front so as to break the enemy's charge, whilst Perseus took his position in the centre of the front line. The top of a banner showing an eagle began to appear above the opposite ridge, whilst a soldier equipped in golden armour with a spear in his hand strode along below it.

Slowly, the Olympian army climbed up over the ridge, forming a line across the ridge to mirror the Titan forces that were opposite them. The cows in the field, sensing danger, shuffled across to the shelter of trees on the far side, away from the two armies, whilst vultures had begun circling above, eager for a free meal. The entire valley was silent as the two forces waited for their orders.

"I am Aquila, son of Zeus! Throw down your arms, find justice for your crimes against the Olympians!" The faint cry of the soldier in golden armour echoed across the valley to Perseus and Kaenas.

Next to Perseus, Kaenas scoffed. A wry grin split the son of Kronos' face, as he unsheathed his blade causing the sun to shine off it into the grass.

"No mercy for traitors! Come, Aquila, meet your death by my hand!"

Perseus' voice lifted over his army, reaching across to the son of Zeus. Seemingly given up on negotiations, the general turned to the Olympian army to shout indiscernible commands. Instantly, the Olympian army began to roll down the hill in a wave of bronze, clashing metal and screaming insults at their opposition.

"Come, men, lets show them the shortcut to Tartarus!"

The triumphant cry from Kaenas flowed through the lines, eliciting a cry back from the soldiers. Like a machine, the Titan army began to flow down the hill, ready to meet its enemy. Perseus barrelled forward with his shield thrusted in front of him, which he used to slam into the Olympian soldier in front of him, knocking him backwards, before whipping his sword into the body of his comrade.

The battle quickly became individual fights to stay alive, with Perseus becoming a flash of sword strikes. Blocking a thrust with his spear, he spun to knock the warrior off balance, flashing his sword into the man's gut before ripping it back out to block another strike, all the time working towards Aquila, carving a path towards him. A sword came swinging from his left, slamming into his shield arm and forcing the shield to fall to the floor, before Perseus parried a second strike that would have meant certain death, before shoulder barging him to the floor where he was dispatched by another soldier.

As a gap opened up around him, the demi-titan used the chance to survey the battleground. The titan forces had begun pushing the Olympian army backwards up the hill, with Kaenas leading at the point to power through the enemy hoplite lines. The young warrior was proving his birth right as son of The Piercer, his spear swinging in and out through the wall of shields, each stab causing a body to fall to the ground.

The atmosphere suddenly thickened, running with electricity. A glance upwards proved enough for Perseus to see the cause of the change in the wind. The son of Zeus had his spear raised in the air, vibrating with power, as black clouds rolled inwards like barrels rolling down the hills of the valley. Lightning split the air, smashing into the ground and scorching everything in a 5 foot radius. The stench of burning flesh filled the air, intoxicating every breath that he took in.

A simple glance across the battlefield to his cousin informed him of the game plan, both beginning to work their way towards the powerful son of Zeus in a pincer formation, with Perseus on the right and Kaenas on the left. Aquila continued to lash the earth with lightning bolts, destroying soldiers on both sides. His lack of concentration on the events around him had caused him to be unaware of the two demi-titans sneaking towards him, with Kaenas leaping forward with his spear outstretched, a lion darting forward to slaughter its prey.

Time seemed to slow before Perseus' eyes. The son of Iapetus flew through the air towards his target, defying the laws of gravity, as Aquila's spear flickered with lightning. Noticing his impending doom for the first time, he spun with inhuman reflexes, the spearhead the only protection against the weapon headed for his throat. Kaenas' body crashed into the spear, the head going straight through his body with a clean metallic screech, before a pulse of electricity exploded from it, flinging his limp body across the ridge, into the soft grass.

"Kaenas!"

A pitiful scream erupted from Perseus' throat after witnessing the death of his best, and only, friend. His body lay unmoving in the grass underneath the storming clouds, his spear rolling out his hand to lie in the grass silently.

Perseus looked up to the killer of his cousin with power and revenge seething out of him, his green eyes now taking on a cold and emotionless glaze as he stared at Aquila.

"Prepare yourself, son of Zeus. For this blade in your throat shall be your final comfort."

The son of Kronos leapt forward, the strike of bronze against gold the only sound that his ringing ears acknowledged.


End file.
